


Down for the Count

by TheBectacularNow



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Domestic, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Romance, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-10-29 11:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17806820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBectacularNow/pseuds/TheBectacularNow
Summary: "This was their system for measuring the degree of an illness or injury.  It was a ranking system of one through ten."Magnus is sick with the flu and rates his health - and his woes - throughout the course of the day.  Of course his loving Shadowhunter is right by his side.  And he won't settle for anything less than a ten.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! So sorry I went MIA after my big move. Life very rudely and unexpectedly got in the way. But hey, we're not here for struggles, WE'RE HERE FOR MALEC SNUGGLES.
> 
> As always, I hope this story gives you the absolute silliest, warmest, happiest Malec feels! And to make up for all of the feels I missed over the past few weeks, this is one of my longest stories yet for all of you! If you want to give me warm feels in return, feel free to leave a kudos or a comment. I read and appreciate each one!
> 
> Like my old schedule, I'll be posting a chapter for this fic every Friday (at least in my time zone). After that I'll let you guys know what my more permanent upload schedule might be. But for now…
> 
> ENJOY THE CHAPTER, MY LOVELY PEOPLE. COME BACK NEXT FRIDAY FOR CHAPTER TWO.
> 
> \---------------------------------

 

Down for the Count

Alec woke with a start.

Upon this sudden start, Alec’s Shadowhunter instincts immediately compiled two crucial pieces of information for his drowsy mind:

1) He was cold, his warm warlock no longer wrapped around him like he was just - he looked at the bedside clock, seeing it was 3:17am - four hours ago when they had gone to bed.  

Peculiar.

2) Said lack of warm warlock meant he was alone in the bed and, from a cursory glance around himself as he blinked the last tendrils of sleep away, the room as well.

Unacceptable.  

He touched a deft hand to his clothed chest as if it were a fire and he was tracking a wanted man, which, to be fair, was all too true.  

Magnus was a very wanted man by his Shadowhunter.  And Alec was always burning for him.

Alec shook his head to clear it, returning his focus to where he was sure a caramel cheek had been pressed against him earlier that night.  

Still warm.

He couldn’t have gone far.

“Magnus?” Alec called into the darkness, rising into a sitting position under the silky bedspread, his trained eyes roving over every inch of the familiar room.

The darkness proved to be terribly unhelpful in solving this mystery.  And so did Magnus.

“Magnus?” the Shadowhunter called again, concern overtaking the confusion in his voice, his feet swinging onto the carpeted floor in a blur, his hand darting out to grasp his stele.  He lept into an alert crouch, touching the stele to his skin to draw a night vision rune.

And that’s when he heard it.  

A pitiful noise coming from the bathroom.  

Alec ran towards it quickly, the beat of his racing heart echoing each footfall.

And was met with an even more pitiful sight.

“I always thought I was king of this domain, but it turns out the throne I sat upon was my master all along.”

Magnus was huddled against the porcelain toilet, the side of his once lean body now crumpled against it in a regretful embrace.   His cheek laid against the cool surface of the seat, but his body still seemed to be burning, sweat darkening his red silk pajamas like open wounds and dripping from the winding rapids of his scrunched brow into the taunting ocean of the toilet bowl.  His legs were folded below him, weak but ready to surge into action again if needed. Unfortunately for Magnus, they soon were.

He looked like a sculpture in relief against the far wall of the bathroom - although he clearly had no relief of his own - frozen against the unforgiving porcelain throne.  It was like _Battle of the Centaurs_ , every part of his body in a riotous battle for dominance and every part seemed to be losing.  

Or perhaps he was a slightly later piece of art, like his speech that flowed far more elegantly from his lips than the bile now did.  Perhaps this was the aftermath of Magnus’s own _The Last Supper_ \- after all, Magnus’s last supper did seem to be making a reappearance - and now the _Lamentation of Christ_ was coming.  Magnus seemed to be eagerly awaiting his own lamentation as well if his look of absolute misery was anything to go by.

“Oh, my poor Magnus.  What are you at?” the Shadowhunter crooned, approaching the other man.  

This was their system for measuring the degree of an illness or injury.  Magnus had implemented it quickly after realizing that his stupidly brave, well-intentioned-but-idiotic Shadowhunter boyfriend would vehemently insist that he was “perfectly fine” even as he was being burned on the funeral pyre.  And Magnus planned to keep Alec away from that funeral pyre as long as possible. Thus came the system.

It was a ranking system of one through ten.

One was “if you take off my gear right now, there is a real possibility that my innards might fall out.”  

Five was more of a “demon poison/ichor is definitely burning through my skin right now and that’s not delightful, but it’s also not life threatening at the moment so feel free to give me a kiss before you help.”

Ten was “I’m bleeding and bruised but an iratze will take care of this body and so will a stamina rune if you know what I’m saying.”

Mmmm Magnus loved a good ten, when his Shadowhunter returned to him as alive and aflame as he always was.  

Oh, how the wicked tables had turned.

Alec had reached his crumpled warlock now and slowly knelt before him.  

“A three?” the Shadowhunter gently inquired, sweeping Magnus’s sweaty hair out of his face before circling around to trace the backs of his ivory fingers over the sallow cheek not currently pressed into the toilet seat, gliding easily over the sheen of sweat covering the man’s caramel skin.

Their ranking system had always been used for Alec.  Now it seemed it was Magnus’s unfortunate turn as well.

Magnus seemed to use it more liberally.

“I’m negative,” the warlock hopelessly mumbled.  “My health, my attitude, all of it. All of it has plummeted down this porcelain Judas with my innards, bosom brothers in betrayal.”  

His voice dropped to a shaking whisper as he forced his head into the air to gaze at the treacherous bowl.  His lip quivered adorably. “I can hear it taunting me, this well that’s wishing me poorly.”

“Oh, baby,” the Shadowhunter crooned, reaching out to him.  Magnus was far more adorable than anyone with vomit on their chin had any right to be.  “Come here.”

He pulled the warlock against him, a far more welcoming surface than the cruel porcelain bowl, and combed his deft fingers through the man’s matted hair.  

“Do you think you're done?” he whispered after a few moments as the man’s trembling body seemed to calm under his loving touch.  

The response came mumbled into his shirtfront.  “If you mean the vomiting, yes. If you mean my life, also yes.”

Alec suppressed a chuckle, containing the soft rumble before it could dislodge the seemingly congealed pool of water currently burrowed into his chest.  Honestly, Magnus was so sweaty at this point, Alec feared that any sudden movement would cause him to be swept away in his own rapids.

“Come then,” the Shadowhunter crooned softly.  “Let’s make you a little more comfortable if we can.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec shows his warlock a little TLC and teaches him that nothing could be more beautiful than their life together. Even when that life includes feverish shivers and pounding headaches. Because it also includes warm hearts and tender touches. And those will always come out on top. And those will always heal them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BY THE ANGEL, DID YOU GUYS KNOW IT'S SATURDAY TODAY?!
> 
> By the Angel, I'm so sorry this is a day late! I literally spent today entirely convinced that it was Friday and that I was posting this on time until my computer informed me differently! I will strive to do better next week. Or at least if I fail again, I'm confident that the reminder I've now put in my phone will not.
> 
> Anyways, as usual, I hope this chapter gives you the warmest Malec feels. If you would like to give me some good feels in return, feel free to leave a kudos and a comment. I appreciate each and every one. <3
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, everyone! Longer chapters coming soon, but this was the most logical breaking point for now. Come back next FRIDAY for Chapter Three! I cherish you all. <333 
> 
> _____________________________________________

By some miracle, Alec had managed to work Magnus and himself out of the ensuite bathroom and back into the bedroom.  Magnus had immediately begun to tumble to the unforgiving floor at the first sign of movement, fully prepared to faceplant, but Alec had not given him the chance.  Strong arms quickly wrapped around the warlock before lifting him into the air and cradling him tightly. His head rested comfortably against a firm chest, the steady heartbeat a lullaby far more soothing than the constant pounding of his head.  He hummed contentedly, nuzzling into the soft fabric against his cheek.

Alec hugged him tighter.  

Alec was on a mission, possibly the most important mission of his life.

The mission to make Magnus feel better.

He quickly grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold water, jostling Magnus as little as possible as he shifted him to one arm.  

This task now complete, he moved to the next, carefully moving through the doorway and into the bedroom.  There he laid Magnus gently on the bed, Magnus grumbling discontentedly at the loss of contact and slitting his eyes into a glare to communicate his feelings.  Alec only smiled back.

The Shadowhunter brought the back of his hand to Magnus’s cheek once more, his voyance rune caressing the beautiful sight before him, before bringing his hand down further, following the path of buttons down the sweaty silk shirt as he undid it.

The task became more difficult as Magnus shivered below the opening material, but it was no match for Alec’s capable hands.  

Once Alec had made short work of the shirt and, soon afterwards, the pajama pants, he touched the cool washcloth to the warlock’s fevered skin.  Magnus whined at the chilly assault, his body shivering violently in protest.

“Shhh,” Alec comforted, running his other, warmer hand over the warlock’s hair and face.  “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

Magnus finally relaxed again under Alec’s ministrations, like he always did, and Alec finished his tasks, cleaning, cooling, and clothing the warlock’s skin once more.  

And that is where they found themselves now, a clothed Magnus practically buried under the covers, gently tucked up to his chin, and his loving Shadowhunter watching over him, washcloth back in hand and dripping almost as much as the warlock before him.

“Don’t worry, Alexander,” the warlock wailed from his tomb of blankets, eyelids fluttering dramatically before resolutely coming to a close, “I’m sure something of me will still be here when you return.  You’ve always said you liked my shapely bottom. I’m sure even if the rest of me withers away, that will still be here waiting for you.” He slumped pathetically, releasing all of the tension in his body as if he had died, every bit the _Lamentation of Christ_ Alec had envision just minutes earlier.

“When I return?  Magnus, of course I’m not leaving you like this,” the Shadowhunter replied, amusement from the warlock’s antics still written across his face, now accompanied by shock that even Magnus’s fevered mind would develop such an incredulous idea.

And it was an incredulous idea to the Shadowhunter.

Despite the fact that there were still several hours left for Magnus to recover before Alec would normally head to the Institute, the decision was clear and effortless to the Shadowhunter.  He didn’t even require a guidance rune to make it, to show him where his heart laid.

The decision would always be Magnus, no matter the options.

Magnus’s golden eyes opened at that, blinking blankly at the other man.

“You’re…” he began seriously now, the dramatics gone, hesitant hope coloring his weak voice, “You’re staying?”

“My love,” Alec smiled, his gentle hand coming up to mop the warlock’s drenched brow with the washcloth before bringing his lips down to kiss it.  “You have nursed me back to health so many times.” His hand dropped lower now, mopping Magnus’s sunken cheek and his lips quickly followed the movement.  “Why would you think for even a moment,” he crooned, kissing the cheek, “that I wouldn’t nurse you back to health as well?” He kissed the other cheek now, a lingering touch that burned far warmer than Magnus’s fever and far more blissfully.

A touched, awestruck smile spread across Magnus’s pained face and he reached out to the Shadowhunter, beckoning him closer.  Alec effortlessly obliged.

He climbed into bed beside the other man and opened his arms to him.  Magnus easily sunk against him, the warlock’s wild mane brushing the underside of his chin where the older man now burrowed.

“I love you,” the warlock whispered into the deflect rune on the Shadowhunter’s neck, his breath embracing the other man like his arms were too weak to do.

“I love you too,” Alec smiled, delighting in the tickle of the congested breath against him.  “Sleep, my love,” the Shadowhunter crooned once more, his fingers tracing runes of their own into the other man’s relaxing back.  “Dream beautiful dreams.”

“I’ll dream of you,” Magnus promised, his eyes fluttering shut, the most content he had felt all night.

“No need to dream of me,” the Shadowhunter whispered into the midnight hair surrounding him, revelling in the feel of it against his smiling lips, “I’ll be here, real and right beside you.”

And he was.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the first time in his immortal life that Magnus has fallen ill, but it's worth it. Oh, so worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three has arrived! Just a little bit of cute silliness, to get you through your day. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As always, I hope it gives you the fuzziest, warmest Malec feels, especially if you're still enduring chilly weather like I am! Use those warm feels as a protective barrier against the cold!!! If you would like to send me good feels in return, feel free to leave a kudos or a comment. I cherish each and every one. <3
> 
> Come back next Friday for more silly cuteness in Chapter Four! I love you!
> 
> ____________________________________________

 

When Magnus woke again, the sun was high in the sky, shining down on him through a peek in the velvet curtains.  Looking at the bedside clock on his right, he could see red letters blinking back at him, signalling that it was 11:15am.  Looking to his left, he could see blue eyes blinking back at him, still right where they promised to be.

“How are you feeling, baby?  What are you at?” Alec whispered gently into the quiet morning, his hand escaping from under the blankets to take note of the warlock’s still-warm forehead before brushing his fingers along it.

Magnus took inventory of his pains this time, of which there were many: the headache, the relentless pressure under his cheeks, the mucus that clogged his nose and throat as effectively as if Chairman Meow were sitting on his face, the uninvited and unwelcome layer of sweat that coated his body and seemingly filled his lungs.  

But he also took inventory of the pains that had left him: the violent storm in his stomach, the incessant pounding against his skull.  Even his fever seemed to be receiving the message that it was unwelcome, slowly receding throughout the night.

Thank god.

“A three,” Magnus decided resolutely, rewarding himself for his remarkable reasoning skills by sinking back into the welcoming warmth beside him.  Mmmm that’s more like it.

“I’m glad to hear your health is in the positives again, whether your attitude has followed it or not,” Alec smiled, leaning down to kiss the warlock’s nose.  Magnus wondered why Alec seemed so constantly amused that he was dying.

“I think you have the flu,” Alec added as he pulled back, taking his own inventory of the warlock, too.

“I think I have the plague,” Magnus groaned in return.

Alec had the adorable audacity to chuckle.  

“I didn’t even know warlocks could get sick,” he mused into the lazy morning light, mindlessly carding through Magnus’s hair once more.

Damn, Alec may not be a warlock, but those fingers were magical.

“Usually we can’t,” Magnus replied, struggling to form anything other than appreciative hums under the Shadowhunter’s ministrations.  “But we become susceptible like everyone else when we overexert ourselves and drain our magic. My god, I haven’t been sick since the rager I threw in 1791.  Marie Antoinette was very appreciative. Do you enjoy capuchin monkeys, Alexander?” He propped his chin on the Shadowhunter’s firm chest and looked at Alec attentively now, as if the answer were very important.

Aside from the fact that Alec could not even begin to comprehend what a capuchin monkey might be, nor the horrifying wildness that rager must have entailed, he was sure they were great.  

“I told you, you had already exerted yourself too much assisting on that hunt the other night,” he replied instead, gently chastising.  “As enjoyable as it was, you really shouldn’t have used that spell in bed after-”

“Worth it,” Magnus smiled wickedly, voice the steadiest and surest it had been since the night before.  “Still worth it.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one said a sick Magnus was easy to care for, but he was oh so easy to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely people! Chapter Four has arrived! 
> 
> This one is a little short (my apologies) but it was the best breaking point before Chapter Five which is HELLA LONG and HELLA SILLY. So come back next week!
> 
> As always, I hope this chapter gives you the cutest, silliest, sweetest Malec feels. If you want to give me good feels in return, feel free to leave a kudos and a comment! I seriously read and appreciate each and every one. <333
> 
> I hope you've been enjoying the story, my lovelies! 
> 
> Enjoy Chapter Four and stay tuned for Chapter Five coming at you next Friday! 
> 
> I cherish you. <333
> 
> ________________________________________________

 

After a while more of lazy cuddling and conversing and a slow acceptance that the day had indeed begun, Magnus decided he was ready for a change of scenery.  Thus began the trip to the living room.

One might think this would be an easy trip, simply stepping through the doorway and into the room directly outside it.

One would be incorrect.  

Deeply and unforgivably incorrect.  

“Go on without me, Alexander,” Magnus wailed into the loft air which, moments before, had been filled with their tranquil breaths.  His hands were fisted into the Shadowhunter’s t-shirt, his body elongated and crumpling like a stretching Chairman Meow.

Alec had successfully gotten his warlock into a standing position beside the bed.  He had asked if the warlock was ready to take a step. The warlock had said “yes.”

The warlock had lied.

Alec had taken one step backwards, his body facing the warlock who was meant to be following him, his hands on the other man’s forearms, ready to secure him or pull him towards himself.  

And this is where they had found themselves.  

“Magnus, I’ve got you.  Just take one step forwards,” the Shadowhunter calmly replied.

Magnus was clearly not feeling Alec’s calm vibe.

“Alexander?  Where are you?  I can see the light and it looks tacky and deeply disappointing.  I don’t want to go to it. Alexander? ALEXANDER???”

Alec calmly looked at the love of his life and had several thoughts.  He was confident that Magnus could walk at this point, at least this one step.  He was confident that it would actually be good for Magnus to take these few steps and strengthen his body again.  And he was entirely confident that Magnus could see and that the only light he was seeing was the one on their ceiling.

But most of all, Alec was entirely and completely confident that he did not want to go through this experience for a moment longer.

On that train of thought, Alec quickly released Magnus’s forearms, scooping the man into his capable arms before he even had a moment to wobble.  The warlock’s screams ceased immediately and entirely and he nuzzled into the chest like he had earlier, this time bringing up a hand to properly appreciate it.  

“Mmmm firm,” he smiled as he gently squeezed the pec.  

Yes, this was much better.

Alec easily glided into the living room and gently lowered his adorable, pathetic warlock onto the couch.  

Within moments of being placed on the couch, Magnus found himself under a fortress of blankets, snuggly tucked into the highground.  And to his right, across the battlefield of the coffee table, were his weapons of choice: jasmine tea, water, ibuprofen (thank god he had educated Alexander about basic mundane medicine), and a gigantic box of tissues.

His warrior boyfriend was seemingly preparing him to battle this illness.

How adorable.

How sexy.

Magnus was ready for it.

“Would you like anything to eat love?” his warrior boyfriend asked from his vantage point beside the couch, so close and yet so far away.  His fingers lazily roamed over the warlock’s cheek like they always loved to do.

Magnus was very tempted to volunteer his go to answer of “you,” but his poor deprived stomach actually felt on the verge of rumbling, so he gave a real reply, boring even himself.

“Something simple maybe?  Some toast?”

Alec smiled at the return of Magnus’s appetite and kissed him in reward before pulling away far too quickly and moving towards the kitchen.

Honestly, Magnus deserved far more of a reward than that.  

By 1pm, Alec had stuffed Magnus so full of tea and toast and love that the warlock was positive terrible things would happen if anyone squeezed him too tightly.  But lying against his Shadowhunter, now stretched out beside him on the couch, he was confident he had never felt so wonderful.

“Your fever is gone,” Alec observed, his curled fingers dropping from the cooled forehead and finding home on a hip.

“Then I guess this burning is just for you,” the warlock mumbled, drooling against the leather cushion below him.

Alec had never seen anything so precious in his entire life.

“Sleep again, love,” Alec whispered to the adorable man.  “Sleep off this illness. You’ll feel better when you awake.”  

“Yes, that’s a wonderful idea, Alexander,” the warlock agreed.  And then he fell further into the land of dreams and his Shadowhunter’s loving embrace.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is said that a sneeze is the expulsion of a demon from a person's body. But what if you're part demon from birth like our favorite warlock, Magnus Bane? Well, let me tell you, the sneezes are a LOT more exciting.
> 
> Just ask Alec and his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO MY LOVES! So sorry this is a day late for some of you depending on which time zone you're in! The reasoning is literally just because I'm an idiot who isn't used to my weekend being on Sunday and Monday, so I keep thinking Fridays are Thursdays. So on that brilliant note, ONTO THE CUTENESS.
> 
> This chapter is longer, just like I promised you, and Jace and Simon have finally joined our boys! 
> 
> For those of you who watch the show, just FYI that I made Simon a Shadowhunter in this like he later is in the books. 
> 
> For those of you who read the books, this whole story is set after Simon has ascended, honestly mostly because it was way funnier if he was human again and could be out of breath lol. But also because I always imagine him growing closer with Jace and Alec when he's a Shadowhunter like them and can identify with them better and be a part of their everyday lives, and I love it. Yes, I know that means that our boys should have Max here, but the story got way too complicated when I tried to add him, so I'll have to give you your Max fix in a different fic. I deeply apologize. I hope you can forgive me.
> 
> And now, onto the chapter! As always, I hope this chapter gives you the absolute sweetest, warmest Malec feels. If you'd like to give me warm feels in return, feel free to leave a kudos and a comment. I cherish each and every one, just like I cherish each and every one of you who take the time to read this fic.
> 
> And now, enjoy Chapter Five! And come back next Friday (I swear I'll learn to recognize what day it is) for Chapter Six! I love you. <333
> 
> ________________________________________

It was just after 3pm and Alec was peacefully reading to himself on the couch.   _Was_ being the operative word.

The crackle of a fire message filled the air and Alec’s brow furrowed at the sound, his eyes tearing away from the book to watch the flaming envelope blaze towards him.  It settled on the open pages before him, immediately extinguishing itself, but not before leaving faint singe marks on the book below.

The furrow remained in Alec’s brow for only a moment longer until he looked at the wax seal on the envelope and sighed deeply, his eyes rolling to the heavens as if asking the Angel Raziel to give him strength, knowing exactly who the message was from.  He shifted his book to one hand and cracked the seal with the other, pulling out the letter within.

It was an invitation to a funeral.

The funeral of Magnus Bane.

 

_You are cordially invited to the funeral of_

_Magnus Bane,_

_The devastatingly handsome High Warlock of Brooklyn._

_He touched many over his 400 years - and with great skill._

_He is survived by his loving boyfriend, Alexander Lightwood, and his son, Chairman Meow._

_The world will never move on from such a loss and neither should you._

_Please perfect your lamentation skills in advance._

 

Alec gently shook his head in resigned amusement, taking a deep breath to quell the smile threatening to overtake his features.  He took one final calming breath before slowly lifting the singed book and envelope above his head, gazing down at his lap with soft eyes.  

“I thought you said you were feeling better?  You were at a five like 15 minutes ago.”

The blanket over his lap moved and out popped a pouting face.

“I’ve changed my mind.  If I sniffle one more time, I’m ending this.  I’ve lived a long enough life. Look after Chairman Meow for me,” he sobbed, turning his mournful gaze to the furry little being.

The Chairman purred contentedly from the armrest at Magnus’s feet as if he were amenable to the plan.

Magnus's mournful gaze quickly turned to a glare. “Et tu, Brute?” he whispered accusingly at the furry menace.

The Chairman meowed his affirmation.

Magnus gasped at the betrayal, his eyes and lips wide, his hand no doubt sweeping over his heart under the blanket, and Alec couldn’t contain himself anymore at that.  He laughed.

The look of betrayal was quickly aimed at him and Alec pressed his lips together to cut off the booming laughter and placed the book and envelope on the end table, freeing his hands to comb through the warlock’s tangled locks.

“It’s not time to make funeral plans yet, my love,” he comforted gently, his soft eyes sending love into the golden, bloodshot ones below.  “I would never let that happen.” This seemed to be the right thing to say and the warlock’s features began to soften under the affection.

He should have stopped there.

“Besides,” he stupidly continued, “you just have the flu.”

Wrong move.

Magnus’s eyes flared.

“GET THEE GONE, TRAITOR!” the warlock roared, his chin flying up and away from the Shadowhunter as if he couldn’t bare to gaze upon him even a moment more.  His harsh tone of voice was slightly negated by the delightfully adorable angles his hair sprung out at, the result of Alec’s fingers uncontrollably twisting through it as Magnus turned his head.

Alec only rolled his eyes once more in loving amusement, moving to obey the warlock’s dramatic wishes and raise his body like he could feel the corners of his lips threatening to do.  

He had gently cradled the warlock’s head in his palms and moved his right thigh precisely one centimeter forward when the rebellion began.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Magnus all but shouted, his hands fighting their way out of the blanket burrito to fist in the Shadowhunter’s shirt, his face darting back towards the other man with a look of sheer and utter horror.

Alec immediately halted his exit.

“You asked me to leave?” Alec breathed as if it were a question, blinking down in confusion at the face still cradled in his hands.

“Yeah, your traitorous mouth,” the warlock sulked, lifting his head out of the Shadowhunter’s grasp and plopping it back into the lap below.  “Not the rest of you,” he hummed, nuzzling against Shadowhunter’s delicious stomach, breathing in his scent.

Alec’s face lit in a truly devastating smile.

“Would a traitorous mouth do this?” the Shadowhunter whispered, gently tugging the warlock’s body until his head rested in the crook of the Shadowhunter’s elbow, his body leaning against the armrest of the couch.  Alec leaned his mouth down to pepper soft kisses against Magnus’s cheeks, his jaw, the sensitive skin of his neck. For a moment Magnus thought his fever must have returned, for his skin was burning.

“Mmm a traitorous mouth surely wouldn’t do that,” the warlock relented, a blissful smile on his face. “But a wicked one might.”

Just as Alec was leaning down to further risk illness and show the warlock just how wicked his mouth could be, the door to the loft sprung open.

Jace entered the room, a stack of papers in one hand and an envelope in the other.  He waved the envelope.

“Shall I dress my best for the funeral service or leave the dazzling you, Magnus?  I’d hate to hog the attention if you’re doing open casket.”

Alec groaned, retreating from the warlock’s lips to fling himself against the back of the couch.  

“How wonderfully thoughtful of you, Jason,” Magnus replied in delight.  “As long as you refrain from wearing a rainbow sequin romper, I assure you, the attention will remain on me.”

“I make no promises,” Jace smiled, plopping down in one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table.  “Some paperwork for you, my parabatai,” he continued through a chuckle, placing the stack on the table between them and sliding it towards the Shadowhunter.  “Mission reports, weapons inventory forms, all thrilling stuff really. I filled all of them out for you, they just need your signature.”

Alec’s head popped up at that as if he had finally been pulled back to reality.  He immediately set his gaze on the warlock.

“You sent the invitation to Jace, too?” he groaned at the warlock in exasperation, his head seemingly finally wrapping around the ridiculous reality.

“I sent it to everyone, darling.  I didn’t know your love would revive me,” he crooned as if he were not the most impossible man to ever exist, blowing a kiss towards the Shadowhunter’s shaking head.

As if on cue, a ragged and heaving Simon burst through the door to the loft, sputtering words with each desperate breath.

“I was on patrol,” he gulped, leaning over to brace his heaving body on his knees.  “I came as soon as I heard.” There was a delicate envelope pressed between his right hand and his knee, the wax seal poking out.

“By the Angel,” Alec mumbled under his breath.

“Yes, Sampson, mourn me,” Magnus said aloud.

Simon’s body froze entirely for a moment before his gaze slowly rose from the ground to the very-much-alive warlock before him.

“I for one plan to wail,” Jace volunteered in great delight, patting the seat beside him in invitation.

Simon gave a sigh that spoke of profound amounts of resigned acceptance before rising once more and taking the offered seat.  

“Now do tell, Magnus, what color scheme should we expect at this grand event?” Jace inquired, turning to drape his legs over the side of the chair and gently kick Simon with them.

Simon swatted him.

Magnus smiled at the question, the happiness touching his eyes before they suddenly went wide in horror. “Oh no.”

Alec braced himself again.

“ACHOOOO!”

A mighty sneeze wracked the warlock’s body, which would have been fine if it weren’t accompanied by a spontaneous fire on the floor next to the couch.  

A disgruntled Chairman Meow fled the scene.  Jace and Simon seemed frozen in place. Alec simply picked up one of the mugs from the coffee table, not even looking at the fire as he dumped the cold tea over it, effectively quenching it.

His gaze belonged only to the warlock in his lap and he quickly discarded the empty mug in favor of caressing the man’s cheek.

“Is your throat hurting you again?” the Shadowhunter gently asked, his fingers gliding over the soft skin.

Magnus nodded, swallowing roughly.  “One could say it’s burning,” he joked, a wince of pain momentarily dulling his smile.

“Everyone else saw that fire, right?” Simon loudly interrupted in alarm.

Alec smiled at the warlock for another moment before gathering him a tissue from the coffee table.

“Yes,” Alec finally replied with a sigh, pulling his gaze up to the other men in the room.  “That’s been happening for an hour or so now. We think the effects are related to whatever symptom is most pressing at the time.  Like now, burning throat, burning room. You get the idea.”

Jace looked thrilled at this turn of events.  “And here I was thinking you were going soft over a domestic day at home,” he chided happily.

Simon was leaning forward and squinting at Magnus and Alec closely, now taking in the appearance of the couch too.  Magnus was on the verge of making a sexual joke about how a day at home never meant “going soft” in their household when Simon thankfully cut in.

“Is that…Is that why you’re covered in body glitter?

Body glitter was a loose term for it.  It was more like unintentional, deeply unwanted glitter that had forcibly attached itself to his body.  Alec thought back to an hour earlier when when the sneezing had begun.

Magnus’s fever had finally relinquished its hold on his body and Alec was cleaning said body again, riding it of the layer of sweat that would hopefully now stay away.  He was extremely attentive, not wanting to miss a single drop.

Magnus’s body had shivered in rebellion the last time Alec had attempted to clean it, attempting to shy away from the cold washcloth in his skilled hand.

Now it shivered in pure rapture.

And just as Magnus had been about to voice this deep approval of the Shadowhunter’s ministrations, separating his lips to form the words, something else came out entirely.

“ACHOOOO!”

The sneeze itself was not terribly shocking to the Shadowhunter, but the side effect was.

Rainbow glitter slowly rained down around them, as leisurely as if it were weightless, entirely defying gravity.  It surrounded them in a vivid display, like they were in the Milky Way, weightless too, surrounded by stars.

And then it had all settled on him and he’d looked like a one-man gay pride parade.

He had blinked at Chairman Meow who clearly shared his trauma, innocently perched on the couch armrest.

Chairman Meow had blinked back. 

Magnus had looked entirely too delighted.

Alec shook his head now, pulling himself out of the memory and back to the present.

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, turning his eyes back to the warlock in his lap.  “I’ve been informed that it compliments the sparkle in my eyes.”

“That it does, darling,” Magnus crooned from his blanket burrito, revelling in the feel of those sparkling eyes gazing down at him.

“And what symptom possibly caused that?” Simon inquired.

Magnus grinned.  “VERY homoerotic desires.”

Simon looked like he very much regretted the path the conversation had taken and possibly the path his entire life had taken.

Jace appeared to be delighting in it, rubbing his chin in mock thought.

“Yes, I too feel homoerotic desires when I have the flu,” he deadpanned at last, the thoughtful look still on his face.  “And here I thought I was the only one.”

Alec opened his mouth to mock his brother’s antics, an unamused look on his face, when another sneeze rang through the room.

“ACHOOOOO!”

The Shadowhunters froze again, calming slightly at the resulting lack of fire, but on high alert nonetheless, eyes roving over the room to discover what had changed.

It was at that moment that an angry meow sounded and a vividly green Chairman Meow tore through the room before darting into the bedroom, no doubt to hide from both his warlock and his own appearance.

A moment of speechless silence followed the Chairman’s pitiful retreat.

“The green?” Jace finally questioned, looking highly entertained.

“Snotty,” Magnus groaned as he accepted the tissue Alec now handed him.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Only one of you may have a crusted nose right now, but you’re both disgusting.”
> 
> Sometimes your friends can heal your spirit.
> 
> And sometimes they need to get the fuck out so your half-angel boyfriend can heal your body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely people! Guess who actually remembered it's Friday and not, in fact, Thursday! Look at us all, just accomplishing things left and right. Gosh we're amazing.
> 
> Here is Chapter Six for you accomplished individuals! As always, I hope it gives you the warmest, silliest Malec feels. If you want to give me warm feels in return, feel free to leave a kudos and a comment! Not only does hearing what you guys like about the fics help me become a better writer, but it also just feels me with so much love and happiness that I can send right back to you guys in each new chapter. So come interact with me!
> 
> Alright, my loves, enjoy Chapter Six! And I can't wait to see you again next Friday for Chapter Seven! 
> 
> Thanks for all the love. <333
> 
> ____________________________________________

 

Magnus seemed to have sneezed himself out for the moment and the group entered into easy, amusing conversation about their days.  

Jace had just been regaling them with how Clary had whacked him over the head for all of the reports she received about Jace unrelentingly pretending to be Alec to everyone as he filled out the day’s paperwork in Alec’s office when Magnus moved to stand. 

“Are you okay?  Do you need anything?  Where are you going?” the concerned Shadowhunter asked, immediately reaching out to steady the wobbling warlock.

Magnus would always wonder how a son of hell like himself had been blessed with such a heavenly being as the man before him. 

“I’m fine, love.  I’m just going to make some tea for my throat, lest I start another fire.  Again,” he chuckled. “Keep talking to your friends.” He touched a finger to the Shadowhunter’s furrowed brow, smoothing it out.

“Simon isn’t our friend,” Jace said.

“Are you sure?” Alec asked.

Simon rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure, my caring Shadowhunter,” Magnus smiled, touching those smiling lips to the Shadowhunter’s cheek before rising from the warm lap he had been so contentedly laying across.  

Mounds of blankets still piled high around his shoulders, he hobbled towards the kitchen on reasonably steady feet.  Alec watched his every step, only tearing away his gaze when the other man had deserted him entirely and there was nothing left to gaze at.

He fell into easy banter with Jace and Simon for a few minutes, most of it playfully at Simon’s expense, before a series of sniffles and disgruntled noises wandered over from the kitchen. 

Concerned that another sneeze might be coming on or that Magnus might finally make good on the promise of his invitations from earlier, Alec immediately grabbed the box of tissues from the coffee table in front of him and rose from his place on the couch to investigate.

Alec stepped into the kitchen, the box of tissues in hand, but was immediately halted by the sight before him.

Magnus was not making tea.

Magnus was in a deep disagreement with the Lazy Susan.

Alec watched a few moments more as Magnus tugged at the top tier of the device desperately, attempting to spin the demonic entity to where their tea supply resided.  

Alas, it was not meant to be. 

He finally stopped, sniffling once more and settling the Lazy Susan with a look of deep and profound disappointment.

“Oh Susan, will your laziness never cease?” he whispered desolately towards the device, looking as if his blanket-covered body might crumple with his hopes. 

By the Angel he was precious.

Alec smiled as he strode over to him, placing the box of tissues on the counter so he could have both hands free to wrap around the other man.  He pressed himself against the warlock’s back as he tangled himself around him, kissing a pouting cheek before withdrawing to nuzzle a caramel ear. 

“Sometimes people just need the proper encouragement.  Like the right touch,” he purred into the ear now, one hand of delightful fingers releasing the warlock to wrap around the ledge of the top tier and coax it, inviting it to follow him if only so he would touch it more.  

It moved easily under his purposeful touch.  Magnus didn’t blame it. 

“Only one of you may have a crusted nose right now, but you’re both disgusting,” came Jace’s taunting voice behind them. 

Alec only rolled his eyes in fond irritation at the response, but Magnus turned like the Lazy Susan in the Shadowhunter’s arms, moving effortlessly under his touch.  “Mmmm I do believe you may want to leave before things get more disgusting,” Magnus warned, his arms snaking around the Shadowhunter’s runed neck, the tea completely forgotten.  

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Jace replied, hands in the air in surrender, his feet already retreating.  Simon seemed to have already fled the scene. Really, that boy was much wiser than Magnus gave him credit for.  Maybe Magnus would call him by the correct name the next time he saw him as a reward.

The thump of the door signalled Jace’s exit from the loft and all thought of Sherman - no, Simon - exited Magnus’s mind, replaced entirely by pleasure and a content hum as his Shadowhunter’s purposeful touch went to work on him, too.  

He could feel it wrapping around him lovingly, warmly, coaxing him down the path to recovery with tantalizing and promising fingers.  He was all too eager to follow.

Yes, Magnus was suddenly feeling much better already.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus Bane is in good hands.
> 
> Very good hands, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, wonderful people who have been following this story and sending love my way! Here is Chapter Seven for your lovely faces! This was one of my absolute favorite to write, so I really hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As always, I hope this gives you the absolute silliest, cutest, warmest Malec feels. If you want to give me warm feels in return, feel free to leave a kudos and a comment! And thank you so so much to those of you who already have. You never cease to brighten my day and I cherish you. <3
> 
> Well, I won't keep you waiting any longer. Enjoy Chapter Seven! And come back next Friday for the final chapter of Down for the Count!!! Enjoy, my lovelies. <333
> 
> ____________________________________________

 

It was now 5:13pm and Magnus was facedown on the couch, his check flattened against the soft back of his left hand, curled under him, his body appeased with the warmth and weight of the blankets piled over him, but still craving one warmth and weight in particular.  Magnus’s symptoms had all begun fading over the hours - thank god his sneezing left him before the loft burned down - but now he was left with one relentless, pressing woe that needed remedying: He was regretfully alone. 

Well, not so alone, really.  Alec was flitting around just in front of him, just out of reach.  He was between the coffee table and the couch, leaning over the expansive table to collect discarded tissues and forgotten mugs of tea.  He leaned over further to collect a stray tissue, a disgusting snowflake that had escaped the hellish avalanche. His back was falling towards the coffee table, but oh so delicious parts of him were rising. 

Mmmm what a wonderful view.  

Magnus wanted to touch it.  

Maybe Magnus could touch it.  

Maybe the Shadowhunter wasn’t so out of reach after all...

Alec froze, the tissue dangling from his suspended hand, begging to drift back to earth in a flurry.  

“Magnus, what are you doing?” the Shadowhunter asked calmly, his body tensing in surprise.  Mmmm Magnus could feel it appreciatively under the territory his palm now claimed.

“I’ve heard that a sign of recovery is improved grip strength.  I thought perhaps I should check my progress,” the warlock replied in his most innocent voice, his fingers squeezing the delicious butt cheek under them to illustrate his point. 

“I think I’m at a 7.  You, my dear, are at a 10,” the warlock crooned appreciatively, playfully squeezing erratically. 

Alec let out a beautiful laugh, full of so much genuine love and happiness that Magnus was positive it could cure anything in the world if someone could figure out how to bottle it. 

Deeply satisfied with himself - and, of course, the butt - a smiling Magnus gave his Shadowhunter an appreciate pat before folding that hand under himself too, pillowing his head higher to better enjoy the view.

Alec returned to the task at hand - already missing Magnus’s attentive hand - thinking that was the end of it.

Oh, the naive little Shadowhunter.

That was not the end of it.  That was only the beginning.

“Okay, your turn,” Magnus piped up a few moments later as Alec returned from the kitchen, having disposed of his collected items in their proper places.

The Shadowhunter was utterly confused.

“...What?” he replied from his frozen position between the couch and the coffee table once more, halted from lifting the warlock’s long legs and joining him on the couch like he had planned to.

“Touch my butt,”  Magnus replied as if that were obviously what he would be talking about, looking at the Shadowhunter expectantly.

Alec wondered if this was real life, if this conversation was actually happening right now.

“...What?” he pathetically repeated, astounded past the point of developing any other remark.  He stared dumbly into the warlock’s eyes. The warlock’s eyes stared mischiefly back.

“Alexander, how are we possibly to confirm that you haven’t caught my illness if we don’t test you?”

“I feel fine,” Alec said blankly, dazed that, yes, this conversation did seem to really be happening right now.

“Mmmm that you do, my love,” the warlock purred through a smirk, his lips curving wickedly.  “But how’s your grip?” 

He wiggled his hips a little at that.  Taunting. Beckoning.

“I’m very concerned about you, Alexander.  My brave Shadowhunter. My loving caretaker.  Put my mind at ease.” He wiggled his hips again lazily, his smiling face adorably crumpled atop his hands on the couch cushion, further extending the invitation.

Alec knelt before him, looking into those laughing eyes, that smiling face, taking in the sight of him.

And then he brought up a hand to take in the feel of him.

“You are impossible,” Alec admonished, shaking his head, a greatly amused smile negating his words, the gentle squeeze of his fingers erasing them entirely.

“Impossibly firm,” Magnus grinned wickedly in return, looking entirely pleased with himself.

It was at that precise moment - Magnus with a handful of couch cushion and Alec with a handful of Magnus, Magnus with a handful of his cheek and Alec with a handful of a different cheek entirely - that Jace flung open the door unannounced, back to dutifully collect the papers he had dropped off earlier.

Jace took one step over the warded threshold, his lips open to presumably announce his presence or declare something witty, before taking in the sight before him and leaving them dangling open in shock.  He blinked rapidly as if each reemergence of his eyes might bring a different, more expected sight. They did not.

“I’m checking Magnus’s recovery,” Alec immediately spouted, his eyes wide in shock, his hand still full of warlock.  His grip looked appreciative.

Magnus, that ass - mmmm that ass, indeed - looked completely unperturbed, a blissful smile still across his stretched lips.

Magnus looked far too composed for the events of the moment.  

“Yes, I believe that’s how the Silent Brothers checked me when last we met.  I see you have the firm, steady touch of Brother Zachariah,” Jace deadpanned, regaining control of his body and approaching the couple once more.  By the Angel, Alec wished he could regain control of his body too, but his hand was still resolutely in place. He was starting to wonder if it was truly just his own overwhelming desires controlling him right now or something a little more magical.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jason,” Magnus spat back.  “I’ve experienced Brother Zachariah’s touch several times.  Alexander’s touch is much more therapeutic. And much firmer.”  

Magnus winked at his Shadowhunter, so much love and amusement gleaming in that bloodshot cat eye, and Alec thought it would make the situation even more awkward if he swooned like a Victorian lady.  Luckily he still had Magnus’s butt cheek to steady him.

Jace had reached the coffee table and gathered the pile of signed paperwork into his arms from where it had rested on the table edge.  The bastard looked far too happy for Alec’s liking. 

“I’ll leave you to the therapy then.  I see you’re in very capable hands.” His huffs of suppressed laughter turned riotous as he caught Alec’s unamused glare.  Alec glared at his parabatai’s shaking body until it fully retreated through the door, cutting off the sounds of laughter with a thump.

Alec was still glaring at the closed door, willing his parabatai to feel the remnants of his sharp stare, when he felt a delightful nudging against his “very capable hand” and his attention was brought to far more important matters.  His gaze, his heart, every fiber of his being returned to the warlock beside him. And every fiber of him was greatly rewarded. 

“He’s not wrong, darling,” Magnus smiled contentedly, gently pushing himself further into Alec’s eager, accommodating grip.  His golden eyes shimmered. 

“I’m in very good hands, indeed.”

 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus may have been down for the count today. But he will alway be Alec's ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, here it is! The final chapter of Down for the Count! Thank you so so much to those who have been following this story and sending me your love along the way. I hope this is the adorable conclusion you're hoping for and that you deserve! 
> 
> As always, I hope this chapter gives you the absolute warmest, sweetest, fluffiest Malec feels. You deserve them. If you'd like to give me warm feels in return, feel free to leave a kudos and a comment. I seriously cherish and appreciate each and every bit of love you guys send my way. I've read and appreciated fanfiction for so long and started writing my own just for myself, just for fun. But to be posting my own work now and be able to see how many kind and wonderful people it has brought into my life? Incredible. Remarkable. Beautiful.
> 
> Well, with that said, I think it's about time I let you read the final chapter. So, here it is, Chapter Eight. I have several other fics in progress, but they're mostly longer so I'm not quite sure yet if any will be finished by next Friday. But feel free to swing by and check. You're always welcome here. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for you're love.
> 
> Now enjoy mine.   
> __________________________________

The rest of the day had passed rather peacefully.  Magnus’s fever and sneezing seemed to have been effectively banished, the charred marks on the floor and a still angry and green Chairman Meow quickly becoming infinitely humorous memories, more and more laughter inducing with each passing moment.  

Not only had they made it through those silly, slightly treacherous moments, but they had done so together.  And that made them all the more humorous. All the more exciting. All the more beautiful. 

Magnus would fix them when he was stronger, would magic away the physical proof of the beautiful chaos that was this day of their lives together, but the memories would always remain.  Each smile promised it. 

Alec had once again dangerously filled Magnus with tea and toast, even adding oatmeal into the mix this time, and Magnus could feel his full belly, his full heart, and, his favorite, his full arms.

The television flickered behind him, but Magnus had been facing Alec for some time now, tangled up in him, contentedly laid out on the couch, eyes fluttering, threatening to close.  

His eyes must have indeed closed for a moment for he missed the delicious view of Alec leaning forward to kiss his cheek before gathering the remote in his hand and turning off the television.  Magnus had no idea what was playing anymore anyways, far too literally and figuratively wrapped up in the man beside him. 

“Let’s go to sleep, love,” Alec whispered in his ear, his lips drifting down to kiss the warlock’s cheek again. 

Mmmm brains and brawns.  Magnus always knew this sexy man was brilliant.

“Yes, I think I’ll do that.  Wonderful idea, Alexander,” the warlock mumbled, sinking even further into the cushions.

Surely it was only about 8pm, but Magnus thought he could possibly spend the next 200 years of his immortal life sleeping.  Especially if his Shadowhunter was beside him. 

The Shadowhunter must have realized his warlock was likely drowsy jello at this point, or else didn’t even want to risk repeating the dramatics of earlier, for he gracefully climbed over the other man before gathering him in his arms.

Mmmm Magnus loved the feeling of it.  His body felt so heavy, but he was weightless in Alec’s arms.  As Magnus laid in that embrace, cradled like something precious, he thought about how there was so much that his magic could normally do.  It could create protective wards, it could heal wounds, it could tastefully and delightfully decorate a room. It could perform sexual magic that was apparently simultaneously a terrible and incredibly brilliant and gratifying idea.  But it was this mortal Shadowhunter who could perform magic his lonely mind had never allowed him to ponder. It was this mortal Shadowhunter who could make his heart soar. It was this mortal Shadowhunter who could make his body fly.

Magnus’s body was just about to use these new flying skills to enter the land of dreams like a sexy Peter Pan, aiming for the second sparkle in Alec’s eye to the right, when the final task of the day suddenly pulled him back to the ground and opened his eyes.

“Wait,” the warlock lazily whispered from his blissful cocoon of Shadowhunter.  

Alec immediately stopped, having just crossed through the doorway to their bedroom.  He gazed at the groggy warlock in confused amusement for only a moment before a small sound rung throughout the room. 

The warlock snapped his fingers.  

The effort of whatever he had done forced him to sink even further into the Shadowhunter’s strong arms, but within a moment he was scrambling upwards again, tipping his head over Alec’s deliciously large bicep to gaze through the bathroom doorway just to Alec’s right, fixing it with a fierce pout and a devastating glare.  

Alec’s attention would have flown to the wonderful stomach now on display from the warlock’s movements if Magnus’s upside-down pouting face weren’t so deeply and adorably enthralling.

Instead, Alec took one more long gaze at Magnus’s precious face before following the man’s stare and seeing… 

A new toilet.

A vastly different and completely new toilet.

Magnus leaned further over the Shadowhunter’s arm to point an upside-down, accusatory finger at it now.

“I don’t tolerate betrayal.  Know thy king, porcelain menace,” the warlock warned in what was probably meant to be an aggressive threat but was instead an adorably sleepy slur.

Alec wanted to spend every moment of the rest of his life with this man.

Magnus finally settled back against his Shadowhunter, seeming deeply satisfied with his work, offering a nod of approval at his own efforts.  And a moment later he was softly snoring before they had even reached the bed, his magic and the blissful warmth of his Shadowhunter coating his consciousness like pixie dust and watching it fly away, his task complete and, therefore, his day.

Alec smiled at his peaceful face and his less than peaceful but incredibly adorable congested little snores pouring from his mouth.  He hugged Magnus to him for a moment more before gently lowering him into the bed, tucking him tightly into the blankets before climbing in and tucking the warlock into his own arms as well.  Magnus effortlessly sank into him, pillowing his head on the Shadowhunter’s chest, winding around him even in sleep, as if it were an instinct, as if it were as effortless as breathing. Alec drank in the sight of him, the feel.

Alec remembered how Magnus used to be when he overexerted himself or drained his magic, remembered that first time before they were even together, remembered Magnus’s stoic face and surprised eyes when Alec offered to give him strength of his own.  He remembered how difficult it had been for Magnus to show any weakness when, to Alec, his trust showed only strength.

Now Magnus had let his full self come out.  And that full self was a drama queen. 

No, far more frightening.  

A drama warlock.

But there was something so nice about it, so painfully endearing, for the more dramatic Magnus was, the more comfortable it meant he was with Alec.  And there was something beautiful in that. 

And that reality was still beautiful when it had crusted eyes and a snotty nose.  And that reality was devastating when it curled against him.

Alec thought he could have died happily in that moment, could have let his overflowing heart effortlessly burst, if there weren’t so many other moments he planned to share with this man who warmed his chest inside and out.  Alec kissed the warlock’s hair before closing his own eyes, ready to dream beautiful dreams of green cats, warm bodies, and golden eyes.

Yeah, Magnus may have been down for the count today.  And he may be currently drooling onto Alec’s shirt in remarkable quantities.

But, as Alec’s breath’s evened out and he relived the day with a smile on his peaceful face, not even his wildest dreams could imagine a time when he wouldn’t always be Alec’s ten.


End file.
